What Is he doing? I can't see shit! Damn it, these ropes are tied too tightly, my wrists are hurting like hell, I only hope that they won't leave a bruise… Idiot! Idiot! why did you decide to confront them? You should've just stayed in the house. Father would've dealt with them if they got too close.
I could hear the man walking back and forth on the other side of the wall, but apart from that, he didn't seem to be doing much else.
The lady who once wielded the large umbrella was now sitting in front of me, with her back slumped against the wall, with a cold towel resting on her forehead, panting heavily. Small clouds came out of her mouth at her every breath because the room was so cold.
Another guy sitting in the corner of the room banging the back of his head against the wall behind was starting to make me feel a bit uneasy. He was wearing a white shirt and black pants. The only notable color he was wearing was a red band to keep his hair away from his face.
He was constantly muttering "It's not real, you're not real, don't worry about it!" to himself, his gaze lost watching the empty space ahead with eyes wide open, crying because he wasn't able to blink.
He had already injured his head, and blood had splattered on the wall. What was worse was that the blood was slowly extending itself, attached to the wall, forming an intricate web pattern around the main area where the blood came from.
Monsters, all of them, this is why these people should not be let out the fracture unchecked, but what can I expect from this place? In this place filled with savages, I doubt they even have something like a government.
"Damn it!" The man on the other side of the wall smashed his fist against a table and then screamed in pain.
It was about time. Now release me and I'll put a good word for you to my mother. Maybe that way you'll be spared. I can't guarantee anything.
I was thinking of what had happened, the thing they said, and I came to the conclusion that they knew a little too well of the mannerism of the Staffens, even what was most likely supposed to be confidential information regarding their families.
Wait, you can't jump to conclusion. It's likely there was simply a leak of information, but what if my hunch is true? If the Staffens are in on this? No, why would they? They know best not to anger my mother.
I started recounting the events, and found it odd that such a small group of people could go completely unnoticed in a neighbourhood filled by renowned families, famous for their might and wealth.
But what if… just if…in the remote case this is their revenge, maybe they want to lure dad away, and kill him when he's at his most vulnerable then dump all the fault on to these guys. No, I watched too many movies to be thinking of something this absurd.
Then I heard the sound of a phone ringing.
"Yes? Yeah, that's me."
What succeeded afterwards was a long silence, broken only by the sound of a guy smashing his head against the wall.
The guy that was covering his face with a red bandana then walked back into the room. With a kick, he knocked out his comrade so that he would stop hurting himself. All the while, he kept listening to the phone.
The web of blood began to drip slowly down the wall for a moment, but then it grew back again, much larger than before, and even made a strange sound of a loud drum played in sync with the heart of the unconscious thug.
"Yeah, I got it, but what about the kid? The scarlet devil's kid. Yeah, he figured out the issue immediately and confronted us at the front door of his house, holding the package of ashen." The man explained to the phone while heading over to check the two feverish members of his team.
He didn't seem to notice the web of blood or hear the sound it was making.
He then looked at me with a glare that seemed intent on piercing a hole into my body. He got distracted by whoever was calling him. He nodded his head a bunch of times like a fool, as if whoever was talking to him could see him nod.
"Got it, I'll get the others ready in a minute. I'll try to be as fast as possible. Yes! No, actually I was thinking of — We still have yet to figure out its true ability, but it seems to take the shape of a projectile that can give color back to someone, we've yet to confirm the true extent of its effects."
What? That's my ability? Why are you suddenly revealing my ability? Who are you talking to? Wait, now that you're talking to someone with a functioning brain, can you ask him or her to go buy me an ice cream? I swear I'll put a good for you to mom so that she won't kill you as brutally, in the best-case scenario you might even get to live.
I tried to talk, but I failed to utter a single comprehensible word. Instead, the man angrily turned around and kicked me in the face to shut me up.
"Nothing, sir, just a pest that is getting rebellious here. What? Why? He's the son of that… Fine!" The man was visibly not pleased about how that conversation ended. After turning off the phone, he threw it against the wall in frustration, destroying it on the spot.
"Fuck!" He shouted as hard as he could.
Slowly the clouded sky in the windows started disappearing. The illusion covering the place was fading away, revealing the outside and true interiors of the apartment. Outside the window, there were large towering buildings full of light. Strangely enough, the lights of that place all had different colors.
On the streets there were many red signs or even orange light bulbs, most other buildings had yellow lights instead. It was a landscape I have never seen in my life. The many buildings in front of ours blocked the dark cloudy skies to the point we could barely notice if it was day or night.
The sounds of that place were surreal. I could hear people laughing and happily discussing their lives, happily strolling through the busy streets filled with shops. It was something entirely different from what I was used to.
"You're not real! Release me! Release me! Let me go!"
The guy that was bleeding off of the back of his head suddenly regained consciousness began to spasm all over the place, flinging his arm around and ramming his head against the wall at a faster rate.
The sound his head made violated my ears. I was terrified and confused; I closed my eyes, hoping that the world around me would suddenly cease to exist, but that wasn't the case. The sound of broken bones was simply growing louder and louder.
The guy that was hammering his head against the wall eventually collapsed on the ground. The back of his head melted into a black ooze, letting out the insides leaking on the ground. As soon as I saw that, I felt the sudden urge to puke out of disgust.
On the last crash I saw for a glimpse of a second the large webs extending to cover the entire room, turning the whole place red, then they disappeared as his body collapsed to the side.
"Carlos? get your shit together Carlos, you can't collapse like this! Carlos!"
The man covering his face with the red bandana quickly crouched to check his dead friend. Whatever power had given him the ability to create illusion had begun killing him the moment he came in contact with my ability.
He was shaking the body of his dead friend, hoping to get some sort of response, but the only result he managed was to make the arms of that corpse flail around.
I was doing my best to try to suppress the urge to puke, thinking of cute things and the good food waiting for me at home, when suddenly I heard the sound of a flaccid object hitting the ground.
I knew I shouldn't have watched it, but curiosity got the best of me, and there I saw a large chunk of Carlos's brain, my mouth was already tasting the putrid taste of puke at that point for at least a couple minutes but that was too much.
I began to puke, and when the puke couldn't come out of my mouth because of the piece of cloth used to gag me, I began to understand what hell on earth truly feels like. I was slowly drowning in my own puke.
I struggled, trying to break free of the robe that was binding my arms behind my back. The taste, and the feeling of the small solid pieces of puke stuck on the back of my throat, was killing me.
In my mind, I was cursing in every way as some of that puke even came out of my nostrils. Every second of that torture felt like an eternity. The more the pain I felt, the stronger the urge to puke got, only intensifying my suffering.
Eventually the man realized in what kind of mess I was and took out the large clumped up piece of cloth stuffing my mouth allowing me to relieve myself, but because I was suffocating to death, the moment I got freed it took a mouthful of fresh air, allowing some of that puke to go to my lungs.
My hell became even worse. I was coughing, puking, and trying to breathe in some gasp of air in between.
This is crazy! Get me out of here! Please! I don't want to stay in this crazy place anymore. I don't care if you bring me to your boss. Please, just spare me!
I had already emptied the contents of my stomach but I still felt the strong need to puke, at that point I had also puked all the liquids I was holding in my stomach, so even though I was trying to puke nothing came out of my mouth after a certain point.
"Fucking hell, you're the son of the Scarlet Devil! How can you be so pathetic?"
When I raised my head to look up, I found that strangely enough, the brain of the person whose head had just melted had disappeared.
No, please, just give me a break, I can't, anymore than this and I'll go crazy.